At 12, Part 2

1983


I’m in Nicole’s sixth-floor apartment, adults absent, about to begin a heated game of Spin-the-Bottle with a group of kids from the building. Just a small motley assemblage of horny eleven, twelve, and thirteen-year-olds, looking to get some hot tongue action. Or more. We’ve just added a new wrinkle to our game play: Seven Minutes In Heaven. A boy and a girl alone in a dark closet for seven blissful, possibly tit-touching minutes. The suddenly more adult nature of our game was Todd’s idea. No surprise since he’s the oldest, tallest, and most likely to be arrested for a sex crime in the future. When Todd floated the idea of "special closet time," no one protested. No one wanted to come off as scared. I’m sure that we’re all terrified of the idea, save Todd, of course, but none of us wants to show fear. I certainly don’t want to admit that the idea of time alone with a member of the opposite sex terrifies me. So we proceed. I see fear in people’s eyes. Hands shaking. Beads of sweat on almost every forehead. My heart races. My stomach burns. I can’t wait to begin—if I don’t run and hide in a moment of panic, that is.

There’s seven of us. Four boys and three girls. Aside from myself, there’s pervy Todd; Nicole, the pretty, blonde, shy object of mine and Todd’s lust; Gerry, he of the buck teeth, flabby body, and club foot; Juan, equal parts white, black, Spanish and Native American, and clearly the stud of our little group; Talia, Juan’s skinny, tall, obnoxious, beautiful sister; and then there’s Lisa, who’s just moved into the building and is still a bit of a mystery, with her dark hair and eyes, her flat-chested, boyish figure, her vampire fangs, her short punk rock hairdo. We know almost nothing about Lisa, but the boys are clearly intrigued. This is her first appearance at our now-weekly, surprisingly innocent (thus far) make-out sessions. Talia and Nicole are clearly jealous, as they’re used to getting all the boys’ attention. But a new girl changes the equation. It’s going to be an interesting night.

Truth is, we’re just kids playing grownup. Doing what we think adults are supposed to do, even though we’re still children. I still collect comic books and action figures. I’d rather read the latest issue of Detective Comics than go to the mall and look at girls (I mean, girls are great and all, but no girl, no matter how big her boobs are, is cooler than Batman), and I recently taped firecrackers to all my Star Wars action figures and blew the hell out of the Empire. Then I burned down my Death Star Playset. Lit the large plastic toy on fire and watched it melt and ooze black smoke. I still prefer Saturday morning cartoons to adult movies on cable, though the gap is definitely closing (I recently had some uncomfortable, just plain wrong thoughts about the animated ladies from "Scooby Doo."). I do not want to grow up. I like being a kid. But the kissing is a nice way to feign adulthood without having any of the responsibilities. Tonight may get serious in a sexy kind of way, and it’s possible that I’ll lose more of my innocence than I’d like to.

It’s not just me. It’s all of us. Todd spends his weekends playing Frogger and Moon Patrol, and solves a Rubix Cube faster than anyone I know. He’s also strangely fascinated by "The Smurfs," but I think that could just be his perverted interest in Smurfette, whom he believes has to service all the male Smurfs on a nightly basis. Nicole, my Jewish Princess, has an extensive Barbie collection. Gerry is addicted to Lucky Charms and Bazooka Joe gum. Juan is a break-dancer, and carries a large piece of cardboard around with him; he keeps telling me I need to buy a nice silver pair of parachute pants to match his, so we can walk around town and challenge people to dance-offs. I haven’t quite mastered the art of break-dancing. Or dancing in general. Or moving my body in any sort of coordinated manner. Lisa says she still fiddles with her Easy Bake Oven. Talia collects stuffed animals. We may just be a bunch of poor apartment kids about to stick our tongues in each other’s mouths and swap A.B.C. (already been chewed) gum, but I get the feeling we’d all just rather pull out a Monopoly board and fight over who gets to be the shoe. Except for Todd. He’s still a kid at heart, just with a bigger boner than the rest of us.

I know I have to grow up. I know kissing girls is nice, and I do sort of like it. I know I can’t stay a kid forever. But is it wrong to want to? Is it so bad to want another innocent year hoping that Santa Claus brings me a new batch of Star Wars toys to replace the ones I blew up or set on fire? Is it so terrible to not want to go all the way with a girl just yet?

We begin with a spin of an empty Coke bottle and a simple, quick kiss. I kiss Nicole on her cherry lip gloss lips. We’re both mildly embarrassed as the others stare at us and Todd hoots and hollers, but the candle-lit room’s mood lighting hides our surely red cheeks. The game continues. Todd kisses Talia, and she quickly pulls away when he tries to slip her the tongue. "You nasty, boy!" she says, wiping her mouth on her long puffy sleeve, and everyone giggles. Talia dresses like Prince’s little sister, as if waiting for that call to join The Revolution and His Purpleness on tour at a moment’s notice. Gerry spins and his momentary visible excitement fades into stone-faced rejection as Talia extends her hand for a shake instead of a kiss. The girls never kiss Gerry. Not Nicole, not Talia, not one of the three or four other girls in the building who sometimes play in our kissing games, and I’d imagine that the new girl isn’t too keen on lip-locking with poor Gerry, who compliments his crooked buck teeth with sour breath similar to long-outdated milk. I feel bad for him. No one will ever call him cute. As much as it embarrasses me, I do like it when girls tell me how cute I am. If one of the girls here tonight shook my hand instead of kissing me, I’d probably cry and never play these kissing games again. But Gerry always comes back for more. I guess he thinks someday his kiss will come.

I spin and the bottle points to Lisa, the new girl. She smiles. I lick my lips. She says, "Why don’t we take this game up a notch? How about me and you go into the closet, Ervin? I’d like to try the Seven Minutes In Heaven thing? How about it, cutie pie?" I nod vigorously. Todd leans close to me and whispers, "She wants to suck your dick, dude." Lisa stands and takes my moist hand. She’s an inch taller. A year older. A grade above. The girl knows what she’s doing. She leads me into the small, musty closet. Todd shouts, "Grab some tit for me, if you can find ‘em!" I am beyond embarrassed, my cheeks burning. Lisa shoots Todd the middle finger and calls him a neanderthal. He says, "Thanks." Lisa whispers in my ear, tells me she hates Todd, and it excites me to know that Lisa likes me and not him.

We sit together on the floor of the closet, cross-legged, facing each other, our knees touching, a still-wet umbrella pressing against my back. It’s dark, with only a tiny beam of yellow light creeping in. The closet is mostly filled with shoes, and the scent of dirty feet invades my nostrils. I start to sweat immediately inside the stuffy little sex room.

"I wanted to come in here with you because you’re the cutest and nicest boy," Lisa says, and I follow her lips as they move. She’s wearing green-tinted lipstick that kind of glows in the dark.

"I thought you might want to come in here with Juan," I say. "He seems to be the guy all the girls want to be with."

I am by no means an ugly kid. I’ve overheard most say that I’m "cute," and believe me, I’ll take it. But "cute" translates into "non-threatening." I have blond hair, fair skin, freckles, dimples, no muscles to speak of. I’m the boy next door. The sweet kid that mothers love. Juan, on the other hand, is the tall, dark, handsome stud that fathers want to keep their daughters away from.

"Who? That Menudo reject?" She laughs as she rubs my bare knee. "He’s good-looking and all, but not my type. I like ‘em like you. Sweet and shy."

"What do you think of Todd?" I ask, already knowing the answer. I just want to hear her say bad things about the other guys so I’ll feel better about myself. Petty, I know, but ego-boosting nonetheless.

"Todd is crass, but mildly entertaining. He smells like the stuff that gets caught between my toes and he has big ears."

She takes my hand in hers. Her hands are as sweaty as mine. Makes me feel better. Makes me think she’s nervous too.

"Should we kiss now?" I say, smooth as high school bathroom toilet paper.

"Ervin, you’re adorable. Come here, baby."

She wraps her arms around my neck, leans in, opens her mouth wide, and then jams her long tongue into my mouth. If she wasn’t a girl whom I was playing group sex games with, I might think she was an assassin trying to suffocate me. I pull away after a few seconds, gasping for air.

"Wow," I say, more shaken up than turned on.

"I know, right? Am I not the best kisser ever?"

Her mouth tastes like hot dogs and peanut butter.

"Yeah, best ever." I pause, searching for the right words. I add, "But can we do it without tongues for awhile."

"You wuss!" she snaps. "Without tongues is stupid. French kissing is the only way to do it."

Lisa grabs my left hand and places it on her right boob. Or at least the smallish bump on her chest that I’m hoping is a boob. It could just be a protruding rib. I pinch to make sure, and feel her nipple harden beneath my fingertips. She moans. Her nipples are huge, and I’m aroused instantly. Not just aroused. Ready to burst. The slightest movement, I fear, will cause me to come in my shorts. I pull my hand away from her little tit because I don't want to mess myself.

"So you’re my boyfriend now."

"Um, okay."

"I like you a lot."

"Same here."

"You ever had a girlfriend before?"

"A real one?"

"What, you’ve had fake girlfriends?"

I quickly think of a clever retort. "Sure, I’ve dated a couple of Barbie Dolls. I’ve also dated a lot of girls who didn’t know we were dating, because I was imagining it."

Instead of laughing, Lisa squints and stares at me as if I have a glass eye that’s just fallen out. "You’re weird, Ervin."

She kisses me again. Licks my teeth with her tongue.

We exit the closet a minute later, holding hands, smiling, presenting ourselves to the world. Lisa leads. I follow. Everyone is waiting for us to rejoin the circle, but we remain standing.

"Game’s over," Lisa says. "Ervin’s my boyfriend now, and I don’t want him kissing other girls, and I’m sure he doesn’t want me kissing other boys, right?" She squeezes my hand. Digs into it with her nails. Breaks the skin. Hurts me.

"Right," I say, on cue.

"Ah hell, you pussy," Todd blurts out. "Thanks for ruining the game." He stands up, shakes his head, then walks straight out the front the door.

Juan shrugs indifferently, then goes back to fixing his curly hair in the mirror.

Nicole stands up and, without a hint of jealousy, says, "Well, I guess that’s it."

Lisa looks at me and says, "Now what?"

I don’t know. I’ve never had a girlfriend. I’m not sure what a guy is supposed to do with a girl once she’s his. This is all rather sudden. Guess I’ll just have to make it up as I go. And in the future, I’ll have to figure out how to get away with touching a girl’s boob without having to make a long-term commitment.

So, now I have girlfriend. A girlfriend whom I barely even know. What the hell was I thinking? My relationship with Lisa is only minutes old, and I'm already trying to come up with a way out. Maybe I can convince my mother that we need to move, like, right now, before my new girlfriend tries to have sex with me.